


Until the Dust Settles

by xoxomj



Category: Jagged Little Pill - Morissette & Ballard/Morissette/Cody
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:35:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23205583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xoxomj/pseuds/xoxomj
Summary: The Healy family practices social-distancing and deals with anxiety surrounding the global pandemic.Update: I just had some more quarantine ideas so this is now multi-chaptered.
Relationships: Mary Jane "MJ" Healy/Steve Healy
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	1. Week One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for a very detailed description of a panic attack

Steve stares at MJ, sleeping quietly in his arms. She looks peaceful, serene. She hadn’t had any intense nightmares recently, and her therapy sessions seemed to be less draining. She’s getting better, much better.

But he’s still worried sick. He kept hearing people at work talk about how “only the immunocompromised are the ones who will die.”

He’s not sure if she’s considered immunocompromised. MJ gets fatigued easily, has to rest a lot in between chores, and is nowhere near as strong as she had been after she’d overdosed - hell, even after her accident, her body had definitely been weakened, despite how much exercise she did and healthy food she tried to eat. To him, that’s ‘immunocompromised’ enough.

He absolutely will not lose her again. So the moment he first heard about the possibility of working from home, he told his office he’d be working from home for the foreseeable future. He also managed to coerce the kids into staying home (well, now they were forced to anyway) and helping him heavily sanitize and disinfect everything around the house.

Steve holds MJ tighter against him, and she shifts, curling into his body. They sleep a lot like this now, Steve holding onto MJ and MJ pressing herself against Steve. It’s a big change from the past few years, when it seemed like MJ and Steve slept with two feet between them. He prefers it this way. In fact, he’s always preferred sleeping close together, but he didn’t try and hold MJ back when she kept pulling away.

He feels MJ stir against him. “Good morning, sleepyhead.” He says quietly, kissing her forehead. She looks up at him, eyes still heavy with sleep, smiling. 

“Good morning.” She snuggles against him, closing her eyes again. It’s nice to have him home, not rushing off to work.

“We should be social distancing.” Steve murmurs, not making any move to pull away from her.

“We are.” MJ says, not letting go of him. “You’re not going to work, I’m not going to soulcycle.”

“You haven’t been to soulcycle in a year anyway.” Steve chuckles.

“Well I’m not running any more errands, we’re stocked up.” MJ closes her eyes and presses herself into his body more. She runs her hands along his side and his chest, sighing contentedly.

“Seriously though. Are you doing okay? Are you feeling okay? Are you warm enough?” Steve pulls the blankets on top of them more, covering her shoulders, concerned.

“I’m fine, don’t worry.” MJ says.

He wraps an arm around her back and brings her close to him again. She curls herself against his body, feeling his warmth beneath her hands. She shifts and winces as her back stings briefly. Steve noticed instantly. “But are you okay?” He repeats.

MJ takes a breath, sighing. “Well I’m definitely not what I used to be when I was 20.” She concedes.

“You’re better.” Steve says resolutely, rubbing her back. “You’re like a fine wine- you get better with age.”

“I mean, look at the weight I’ve gained here, and how many more lines I have on my face, and-“ MJ starts a laundry list of her imperfections, pointing to them.

“You’ve always been beautiful.” Steve interrupts. “But I’ve never been more in love with you than now.” He says quietly, stilling her hands. He tilts her head up towards him and kisses her gently. 

MJ smiles sadly against his lips. “I’m not what I was before.” She repeats.

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Steve replies. “I love each and every part of you.” MJ tears up at his words, and looks away, trying to hide them. He doesn’t say anything, merely brushing her tears away and kissing her again.

“You should probably get up to ‘work from home.’” She says, after she breaks away from the kiss, yet not moving off of him.

“Mm, yeah, I should.” Steve also doesn’t try and move.

They lie there together, snuggled against each other, Steve rubbing MJ’s back. He’s back to worrying about her again, his mind whirring with possibilities and precautions to take, lost in thought. He knows he can’t possibly control her actions, she is her own person, but god how he wants to keep her safe. And away from everyone who could possibly have it. And get her tested. And- 

MJ sighs and gets up. “As much as I’d love to lie here forever, I have things to do, and you do too. C’mon.” She offers her hand to Steve.

~

Frankie paces in her room. School had been closed and moved online for the next two weeks. She’d just finished her second online class of the day, and had half an hour before her next one.

She can’t stop thinking about this whole thing. The school and restaurant closures, travel bans, and even movie theater and mall suspensions are so jarring. Life as she knows it is just falling apart, and nothing feels normal. This is some apocalyptic shit. And Frankie hates it.

And there’s the added worry of... her mom. 

She too had heard all about talk of only the immunocompromised being affected, being at risk. Is MJ immunocompromised?

MJ knocks on Frankie’s door. Speak of the devil. “Laundry delivery!” She says brightly. 

Frankie opens the door and lets her mom in. MJ starts to put away some clean laundry, as Frankie watches, worry creasing her forehead.

“How are online classes?”

“They’re fine. Weird.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.” MJ says, chuckling, still putting away Frankie’s clothes. “I mean, I heard you guys having some technology issues, did you figure that out? Was it on our end? I can call-“

“Mom?” Frankie interrupts her.

“Yes?”

“I’m...” MJ turns when she hears the tremor in her voice. She snaps into mom mode when she sees Frankie’s face, immediately putting the basket of clothes down and taking Frankie’s hand.

“Sweetie, what is it? Are you feeling okay?” MJ puts a hand on Frankie’s forehead. She feels fine.

“I’m fine. I’m just... scared.” Frankie says quietly, moving to sit on her bed, leaving space for MJ to join her. She does. They sit in silence for a while as Frankie works to gather her messy thoughts, MJ holding onto her hand and rubbing it gently, comfortingly.

“I just... don’t know. The whole world is panicking and anxious and it’s just like... getting to me. Like everything is closing down and we don’t know for how long and no one knows anything and this just feels so... apocalyptic. I hate it.” Frankie says, looking down. 

MJ scoots closer to Frankie and wraps an arm around her. Frankie turns and suddenly wraps both arms around MJ, holding onto her tightly. MJ is a little surprised but returns the hug, rubbing Frankie’s back, trying to settle her daughter’s panic.

“I’m sure it will blow over, we just have to be careful for the next few weeks.” MJ says gently. “It’s just a bad flu, people are getting taken care of, people are figuring things out.”

“But what about you?” Frankie asks, her voice shaking. “What if you get sick, what if you get it? Will YOU be okay?” 

MJ feels something in her stomach turn uneasily, the beginnings of her own anxiety about this whole pandemic thing. But she tames her uneasiness briefly, speaking calmly to Frankie. “You know, honey, I’m not sure what will happen to me, but nobody’s sure of anything right now. Hopefully we’ll have some answers soon. But I’m washing my hands, disinfecting and all that, so don’t worry about me.”

Frankie holds MJ still tighter. MJ leans her head on Frankie’s, breathing in deeply, doing her best to help Frankie calm down.

“We’ll get through this together.” MJ murmurs against Frankie’s hair. “It’ll be fine.” They stay wrapped in each others arms for a few minutes.

She can feel Frankie’s breathing start to slow and relax into something normal, and shortly, Frankie pulls away. “I feel a little better now, thanks.” She says quietly, almost a little embarrassed by her sudden panicked outburst. “I’m sorry… You can go now, if you want. My next class is soon.”

MJ nods and smiles at her, caressing her cheek. “Don’t ever apologize.” She pushes some hair behind Frankie’s ear. “We’ll be fine.” She repeats. Frankie closes her eyes against MJ’s touch, her mom’s hands comforting her.

They both get up off the bed and Frankie returns to her desk, getting her materials ready for the next class. MJ takes the remainder of the laundry and leaves, closing Frankie’s door behind her.

Frankie may have calmed down, but the dull throb of anxiety that stirred in her stomach earlier is starting to get to her. She can feel it rise in her, but she still goes into Nick’s to try and finish putting away the laundry. The panic reaches her chest and starts to make it difficult to breathe, and she has to stop. She hurries out of Nick’s, down the hall to her and Steve’s room, closing the door with a slam.

She barely makes it to their bed when her knees buckle and she can’t stand anymore, her body shaking uncontrollably. She grips herself tightly, trying to calm herself down.

The global pandemic is terrifying.

Uncertainty is already something she hates. Loss of control too, even though that’s something she’s been actively working on.

Frankie’s scared “what about you?” and Steve asking about her earlier this morning echoes in her brain. Of course they’re worried about her and how this would affect her if she were to get sick with the virus. 

Hell, she’s terrified. How would her body react? Would her body be strong enough to fight it, whatever it is? She’d been making a lot of progress over the past year, but she KNOWS her body is not what it used to be. Not in the least.

She curls tighter into a ball on the bed, shaking, tears stinging at the corners of her eyes, her breathing impossibly short and her chest still seizing uncomfortably. Her skin burns and tingles, her senses keep heightening, her muscles are tensing in ways that she knows are not good. 

Steve hears the door slam shut. Frowning, he puts his work down and peers up the stairs, trying to listen. He can hear the sounds of online class from Frankie’s room, but notices that the door to their room is closed. 

When he opens the door to investigate and finds MJ on their bed, shaking, hyperventilating, he snaps into action. He closes the door behind him quietly, before climbing on the bed and immediately wrapping her in his arms, rubbing her back. She clutches him tightly, unable to stop shaking, her chest starting to hurt from how hard it is to breathe. 

“Mary Jane, please breathe for me.” He says, his voice low. He can’t count how many times he’s had to calm her down from a panic attack over the past year, but it had been a while since her last one. And this one seemed to be bad. Really bad. 

She tries to take a deep breath, but only manages to hiccup, her breathing still erratic and short. Her head is pounding, and Steve can feel her pulse racing against him. “Try again?” He says softly, holding her face gently and trying to get her to focus on his face. She tries again, both to focus on his face and to breathe. She can’t. She clings onto him still, and Steve can feel her vibrating uncontrollably against him. She clearly isn’t in the best state to just breathe on command. Steve changes tactics.

“Okay, Mary Jane. How about this one… name 5 things you can see.”

MJ closes her eyes and tries to clear her brain for a brief moment, before opening them and trying to place items around her. It’s so hard to focus. Her vision is so hazy and she can’t stop shaking, and she feels like she’s going to pass out. But she knows this panic attack has already been too long, and she needs to calm down ASAP. 

Her voice is so quiet Steve has to strain his ears to hear her. “Your arm, your book, your alarm clock, the dresser... the bathroom door.”

“Good. 4 things you can feel.”

MJ successfully takes a deep breath and feels her muscles start to relax as she closes her eyes to clear her brain again. “Your hands, the blanket, my wedding ring,” She moves her hands to the side, just reaching the bedside table. “Table.” 

“Very good. 3 things you can hear.” 

She takes another deep breath, and her vision is starting to clear and the haze is starting to fade. “Your voice, my breathing, and…” She closes her eyes, trying to slow her breathing enough to listen for something different. At that moment, they can hear muffled sounds of Frankie yelling ‘You’re muted! We can’t hear you!’ “Frankie and her online class.” 

“Haha. 2 things you can smell.” Steve can feel MJ’s breathing slowing, and her heart rate return to a somewhat normal pace. She’s still shaking, though less violently.

“Clean laundry. You.”

“Alright, 1 thing you can taste.”

“Toothpaste.” She whispers, breathing deeply. She doesn’t loosen her grip on Steve, though; if anything, she grips him tighter, it seems.

“Good job, sweetheart.” Steve says quietly, kissing the top of her head, still rubbing her back. Her muscles are impossibly sore from being so tense for so long, but she still has some residual tremors deep in her chest that won’t leave. They sit in silence for a while as MJ regains her ability to breathe normally.

After a few minutes, MJ, still clinging to Steve, shifts up so she’s leaning on his shoulder rather than his chest. She closes her eyes. Steve waits patiently for MJ to speak. They both know she has to talk about it.

“I’m scared.” She says into the silence, opening her eyes. She rubs the middle of her chest, trying to get rid of the shaking inside of her.

“Of?” Steve stills her hands and replaces them with his, rubbing her chest in slow, gentle circles. She closes her eyes against his touch, still forcing herself to take deep breaths. His touch has become her go-to source of comfort, often better than her own. She had her own techniques, sure, and they worked most of the time, but she calmed down best with Steve there.

“This whole… pandemic.” She says quietly, her voice catching in her throat. “I don’t… I’m really nervous that I- I know my body is not what it used to be, and just like-“ She doesn’t finish her sentences, but they both know what she’s struggling to articulate. 

Steve holds her closer to him, not sure what to say. He’s terrified. He’d been thinking about this all day, all week, since whenever the virus had been brought into the states. His own anxiety doesn’t manifest itself in intense, debilitating panic attacks like MJ’s, but MJ does notice that he is more worried, more scared, more cautious than he is normally.

“I know.” He replies simply, wrapping his arms tighter around her, as if that could protect her from this terrifying unknown. There’s nothing good for him to say. Her usual panic attacks were all about the past, and Steve could usually say something about how he’s here now to protect her, to keep her safe, that no one can touch her.

But this, this is so mysterious and abstract. MJ feels her breathing pick up a little; not as badly as before, but she’s not necessarily calm either. Steve’s silence and speechlessness speaks volumes. There’s nothing he can do that can really alleviate any of her fears, her worries, her anxieties; they had all the same ones.

Steve shifts so that they’re now lying on the bed, and MJ turns to face him more directly. She sees the worry in his face as he holds her, and feels tears pricking at her eyes, not bothering to try and wipe them away. The anxious buzzing in her chest doesn’t go away, but persists at a low-grade throb, not heightening, but still continuing and tiring her body out. She clutches his shirt, her hands shaking, closing her eyes, leaning her forehead against his. Steve rubs her back, but she can feel his hands shaking too, and stops him. “It’s okay. You don’t need to do that right now.” She whispers, her voice trembling. “Just hold me. Please…” And Steve does, wrapping his arms tighter around her. 

MJ can feel her exhaustion overtake her as they lie on the bed in each others arms. She tries to keep her eyes open, blinking rapidly, but they’re oh so heavy from her intense panic attack, and this… whatever mini, low-grade kind of panic attack she and Steve were experiencing together. Within a few minutes, she’s asleep, fully worn out, energy drained.

Steve feels MJ’s breathing become slow and even, and glances down at her. She’s tired herself out, now sleeping peacefully in his arms. Her grip on his shirt has loosened, but the fabric is still bunched in her hands. He presses a kiss against her forehead, before adjusting his grip on her and also giving in to his exhaustion.

~

MJ wakes up a few hours later, feeling groggy and still drained. Steve is gone, but the blankets are tightly tucked in around her. The nagging worry and sadness lingers on her skin, in her chest, and she forces herself out of bed and into the shower. She’d showered earlier already, but just needed to scrub her body clean after her debilitating incident earlier.

She steps out of the shower and glances at herself in the mirror. She has circles under her eyes again, and feels considerably worse than she did that morning; not as bad as she had been a few hours earlier when she had been paralyzed with fear and panic, but not as fresh.

She sighs shakily, and goes into their closet, going through the movements of getting dressed. Just as she’s about to put on a new shirt, she stops, changing her mind, and walks back into their bedroom. She takes the worn shirt Steve wore to sleep last night and puts it on. She breathes in deeply — it still smells like him. She pulls her hair up into a small, messy top knot, and looks in the mirror again.

MJ slowly makes her way downstairs, conscious of how shaky she still is. The buzz in her chest is still there, but it’s manageable at the moment. She walks into the living room, where the lights are on. Steve, Frankie, and Nick are all sitting on the floor, a game of monopoly in the middle, a pizza box nearby.

“Oh hey, honey. I didn’t want to wake you so I just ordered some pizza for dinner.” Steve says, patting the ground next to him for MJ to sit. MJ joins him and wriggles herself into a position tucked against his chest, taking his arm and wrapping it around her tightly. Steve kisses her forehead before offering her a slice of pizza.

Nick and Frankie are used to this now. Often, after a particularly bad bout of anxiety or a triggering situation, MJ will stick like velcro to Steve’s side after she’d calmed down. It had weirded them out a little bit (“Feels like too much PDA,” Frankie said once, when she had asked Steve why MJ did that) but they realized that their mom needed to feel safe. Also, if Steve hadn’t already told them what had happened, it tipped them off that MJ was in a volatile state and not to push any of her buttons.

“I’ll be on your team.” MJ says, purposefully not acknowledging the elephant in the room. Steve had told Nick and Frankie what had happened, and MJ assumed as much, but would rather them not talk about it.

“You’re wearing my shirt.” Steve whispers, a grin tugging at his lips as Frankie takes her turn.

“I needed it.” MJ replies quietly, her voice low, giving him a small smile. But Steve can still see a scared weariness beneath it. He rubs her shoulders reassuringly as she takes their turn, rolling the die.

The air is quiet and heavy, except for the small talk of the game. Frankie can’t stop sneaking glances at MJ, wondering if she had unknowingly spurred MJ’s panic attack. Nick is cautious too, not wanting to trigger or start anything that could set her off. Steve still has his arm wrapped around her as they play.

“Wait, what the hell?” Frankie says suddenly into the silence, as MJ buys the fourth and last Railroad. “You guys have all of them?!”

“Always buy the Railroads.” MJ says, smiling to herself. “That’s always worked for me.”

“Wait, but I thought you only had one?” Nick says, confused.

“No, we have all four.” MJ holds up the Railroad cards for all to see. “See?”

“Okay, okay, no need to gloat.” Frankie says, amused.

“Yeah, mom. You can only be so lucky so many times.” Nick pipes up, taking his turn, followed by Frankie.

Then it’s time for MJ to roll again. “Ahhh hahaha! Mom, you’re in jail.” Frankie laughs. 

MJ shrugs. “I’ve got the four railroads and most of the red and orange properties. I’ll be fine.”

Within a few rounds, Nick is completely bankrupt, and Frankie is on the verge of bankruptcy. MJ gladly takes all their money, sorting it into neat little piles in front of her and Steve.

“Wow, mom wiped me clean.” Nick stares at the space in front of him, with his properties mortgaged. “And you’re still in jail?”

“Did you even try to get out?” Frankie asks.

MJ grins. “No. I bought everything I needed and just had to watch you guys land where you landed.” 

“I think we know who won.” Frankie says wryly, crossing her arms in mock anger. “God, you’re ruthless.”

“You gotta bring your A-game.” MJ says jovially. She’s not leaning as heavily into him anymore, but hasn’t moved his arm away from her waist. The mood feels lighter, happier. Steve shakes his head behind her, smiling to himself. Of course MJ feels happier once she’s beaten them all at monopoly.

“Okay, I’m done.” Frankie concedes, after landing on another Railroad. “Calling it quits before I have to start mortgaging stuff.”

“Alright, let’s count.” MJ starts to count the wad of cash in her hands. 

“Mom, we know you won-“

“Ah, but by how much.” MJ interrupts Nick, grinning. Nick shakes his head, throwing his hands up in defeat. Frankie’s already counting.

MJ is still totaling her monopoly wealth when Frankie stops. “Mom, you’re already like, double what I got-“

“Sh. I’m almost done.”

They all watch, amused, as MJ finishes counting her money. She counts the last few dollars, before sitting back, a mischievous grin on her face. “Well. I think I got like… triple your amount, is that right?” MJ asks Frankie.

“Annoyingly, you’re right.” Frankie says, laughing.

“And-“

“Mom, I didn’t even bother counting. You know I was broke.” Nick cuts in, smiling.

“So I guess I won?” MJ says, shrugging.

“Don’t play dumb.” Frankie swats at MJ playfully across the monopoly board, giggling.

“Yeah, you knew what you were doing.” Steve says from behind her, tickling her side. MJ laughs, wriggling away from his fingers.

They all put the game away together, the mood significantly lifted. “Should we watch something?” Nick asks, as MJ and Steve put away the pizza boxes. 

“What do you guys want to watch?” Steve asks the rest of his family.

“I’ve kinda been in a throwback kinda mood, so what about something like Toy Story or Finding Nemo?” Frankie suggests. She makes eye contact with Nick, and they both nod — Disney movies were generally safe bets for not triggering MJ.

“I’m feeling Nemo.” Nick says.

“I’m going to grab some ice cream. Anyone want?” Frankie asks. Everyone except MJ nods. 

Steve grabs the remote and settles on the couch, MJ joining him as Nick pulls a worn DVD out from the cabinet and Frankie goes into the kitchen.

Soon, they’re all settled in front of the TV with bowls of chocolate ice cream. Nick sits on the ground with Frankie, and MJ has her head on Steve’s lap and is curled under a blanket on the couch.

Steve strokes her head gently as they watch. He looks down at MJ, moving a strand of hair away from her face. She looks serene and peaceful again. Steve takes a breath, and looks back at the movie.

They’ll get through this together.


	2. Thunderstorm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MJ is stuck in a bad headspace and is suddenly scared of a thunderstorm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just your average Steve-comforting-MJ type fic :)

The Healys have been social distancing for a few weeks now. They’ve settled into a comfortable pattern. Breakfast together, all in their pajamas, before Frankie and Nick go off to their rooms for their respective online class Zoom sessions, Steve to his office to work, and MJ to do her usual morning chores. Lunch together, usually leftovers or sandwiches. Then, MJ would go for a walk, often accompanied by Frankie, sometimes Nick and sometimes Steve, if they weren’t too busy. Dinner, sometimes take out, sometimes something they’d make together. And if no one had too much left to do, they’d watch a movie or play a board game.

It feels a little weird to think this, given the scary circumstances, but, maybe, MJ actually is enjoying the quarantine… strangely enough. She’s still working on being comfortable in large social gatherings, and this is a fantastic excuse to not gather. Plus, her family is spending more time than ever together. Something she thought would be so rare as the kids finished high school and went off to college. She’s trying her best to treasure these moments.

So when she wakes up one morning feeling completely miserable, sad, and anxious, she’s not sure why. She tries to ignore it all day, keeping to their usual routine, but, of course, given that she’s spending every waking moment with her family, they notice.

MJ pulls the blankets tighter around her shoulders, huddled on her bed. She’d quietly retreated to her and Steve’s room after dinner, leaving the rest of the family to do the dishes. She normally doesn’t like to do that, but they insisted.

She shivers, from what, she’s not sure. Anxiety, cold, a mix of both, probably. She’s always cold. She sighs, scooting herself over towards Steve’s side of the bed. She rests her head on his pillow; it still smells like him. She finds his smell so comforting.

She can’t seem to get out of this weird funk in her brain. She just feels like… a huge burden. The family has been exceedingly careful, as no one is sure, including herself, whether she counts as someone who is at risk. So there’s an intense wiping down of everything, stocking up on masks, endless hand-washing... they don’t let her go to the grocery store, or do much interacting with the outside world. They let her go on walks, and that’s it. She can feel them watching her closely almost all the time.

And today, she’d been watching the news, watching endless coverage of the pandemic, and it just occurred to her that they would not be returning to normal any time soon. Luckily, they have not known anyone personally affected… yet. But it’s really fucking terrifying.

On top of that, her old routine is thrown. While their new adapted routine was nice, she’d gotten into the swing of her old routine, post overdose, post rehab. And virtual therapy is kind of hard. She already feels herself retreating more, returning to that feeling of isolation and feeling more reluctant to share her feelings with her therapist over Zoom calls. She wonders if her therapist can tell.

She turns over again, burying her cheek against Steve’s pillow. She glances at a photo on Steve’s bedside table; it’s from their wedding day, when Steve first saw her in her wedding dress. She looks so happy and carefree; she can’t remember the last time she felt that way. She had been happy when that photo was taken, though, because Steve had been so convinced that she was the most beautiful woman ever. And briefly, she had felt that way.

And then her brain reminds her that she had been stressed and scared 95% of the time, despite 100% knowing that she wanted to marry and wanted to marry Steve specifically. She had thrown up in the bathroom that morning, from nerves, and a sudden panic about whether Steve actually liked her or not.

A low rumble sounds in the distance, and suddenly she can feel her chest tightening, her anxiety picking up. Right. There’s a storm coming. That’s what they said on the news earlier today. Thunderstorms used to make her feel happy. It used to feel like a symbol of starting over, of washing the old away. But right now, it’s terrifying her.

Another rumble. Her breathing quickens, and she curls herself into a tighter ball. She can’t explain it, but the rumbling is deeply unnerving. It feels childish, and if she could stop herself from reacting this way she so would. But she can’t. All she can do is lie there, clutching her blankets, burying her face in Steve’s pillow, his lingering scent a small source of comfort.

She tries to slow her breathing down. In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8. In for 4, hold for 7- it doesn’t work, and her breathing is still unbearably quick. The pain in her chest keeps jabbing into her repeatedly, and her hyperventilating is getting worse.

Lightning illuminates the bedroom briefly, casting terrifying shadows everywhere, followed by a loud clap of thunder. MJ whimpers as the sound sends a jolt of anxious energy through her body. Her skin prickles uncomfortably as she trembles, feeling unusually sensitive to textures; even the blanket feels a little rough. She wants to go get Steve, beg Steve to come and hold her, hug her, keep her safe, but she can’t move. She’s paralyzed with fear, completely at the mercy of the panic attack she’s having.

“MJ?” Steve knocks on the door. 

MJ doesn’t respond; she can’t. Another lightning flash followed by a clap of thunder and MJ whimpers again, a little more loudly. The shaking in her chest won’t stop and is really starting to hurt, and her skin tingles all over. 

Steve opens the door slowly, but upon seeing MJ curled on the bed in the state she’s in, he snaps into action. Recognizing the telltale signs of a panic attack, he closes the door behind him and immediately moves to the bed.

“Mary Jane-“ He says softly, reaching a tentative hand out to touch her shoulder. She doesn’t recoil or anything, so he rubs her shoulder gently. She looks up at him, terrified. “Mary Jane, can you take a breath for me?” He wishes he knew exactly what’s bothering her, what triggered this — a memory from college, from her overdose, or… just random? 

“I can’t.” She chokes out, holding her chest, her rapid breathing starting to make her feel lightheaded and sick. Steve lays next to her, pulling her close to his chest, wrapping an arm around her. He can feel her trembling violently against him.

He speaks softly. “At work the other day, John was trying to tell me all about this new TV show that he loves, but he basically spoiled the entire show for me. Like, we were by the kitchen and before I know it he spoiled all of Succession. Which I’ve been saying we should watch-“

MJ recognizes this calming technique; she tries to focus on his voice, the soft, gentle tone of his voice, as he tells a few more stories about his coworkers. He keeps his voice low and quiet, even and consistent. She closes her eyes, her breathing beginning to settle as she listens to him. 

It seems to be working, Steve can feel MJ’s breathing start to slow, but then lightning strikes again, followed by an even louder boom of thunder. MJ jumps visibly and Steve sees a flash of abject fear in her eyes, as if the lightning is shocking her system, whatever pretense of calm disappearing immediately. Is MJ scared of thunderstorms, though? He’s not sure if she is. She never expressed this much fear over them, and that alarmed him a little bit.

She shifts over slightly and pulls herself closer to Steve, shaking in his arms. He can feel her heart pounding impossibly fast, and she buries her face in his chest, a small sob coming from her. Her breathing is so short it’s almost nonexistent, and Steve is scared she’ll pass out.

Her back is starting to hurt from how tense her shoulders are, how tight her muscles are. Steve rubs her back as she cries softly against him, unable to stop the flow of intense emotion that the panic attack is bringing on. He wracks his brain trying to think of ways to calm her down; the lightning and thunder are due to continue for at least another 20 minutes or so, and his initial method didn’t work.

Suddenly he remembers something his grandma did with his cousin once, when she got scared. She made her count backwards from 300, so that she could focus on that and not the thunderstorm. It was simple enough, and surprisingly effective. His cousin managed to calm down enough so that she wasn’t shaking uncontrollably anymore, and spent the rest of the storm curled up by the fireplace with his grandparents dogs on either side, while his grandfather told funny family stories.

“MJ, count backwards from 300.” He says gently, pulling away slightly so he can see her face.

She looks at him, a little confused and scared, but starts nonetheless. “300, 299, 298, 297, 296, 295, 294, 293-“ Her voice is shaky, but her breathing is starting to slow. Lightning strikes and she briefly stops, her chest stinging and breathing skipping as the thunder booms again.

“That’s it, focus on me. 293...” Steve urges, watching her eyes dart around in fear. He reaches a hand up gently cup her face, his thumb rubbing her cheek. 

She closes her eyes and takes a shuddering breath. “293, 292, 291...” She continues counting, stopping a few times when the thunder and lightning strike. Her chest still stings and she still jumps a little but she’s starting to calm down, and her breathing is starting to return to normal.

By the time she finishes counting, the storm has passed, and her breathing has steadied. All they can hear now is rain against their window. MJ closes her eyes, her chest still hurting, rubbing her temple with her fingers.

“MJ?” Steve says softly. MJ opens her eyes and looks at him, feeling utterly worn out and exhausted, the residual tremors in her chest burning. She scoots closer to him, until she’s wrapped in his arms, her face buried in his chest.

“I’m sorry.” She says, her voice muffled. Steve can feel her still shaking slightly as she grips him tightly. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not.” He says quietly, moving so that he can see her face. Her face still looks pale and wan, and she seems too tired to even cry.

“I can’t explain it.” She whispers, almost scared. “I just… I don’t know what came over me.”

“You don’t have to.” He replies, pushing hair away from her face and stroking her cheek with his thumb.

“I want to talk about it.” She says, staring at him. “But I don’t have the energy to right now.” Her voice sounds so small.

“Tomorrow.” He kisses her forehead.

“Tomorrow.” She agrees.

MJ sighs, rubbing her chest. All of her muscles are aching, and she feels as though she’s been hit by a bus. They lay in silence together for a long time, listening to the rain, Steve holding MJ in his arms, as MJ rubs her chest, trying to relieve some pressure.

Finally, Steve feels the telltale signs of MJ’s breathing slowing; she’s fallen asleep. Steve reaches over and pulls the blankets tightly over her shoulders, as she shivers; she always seemed to feel cold now. She instinctively snuggles closer to him, wrapping her arms around him and curling her body to fit against his.

He rubs her back as she sleeps, breathing deep and even, staring at the light from the neighbors house illuminating some trees, until he too, falls asleep.


End file.
